


Anniversary Gift

by Char (Deiph)



Series: How to Train Your Detective [2]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Authority Figures, Bondage and Discipline, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 05:25:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1498291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deiph/pseuds/Char
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not only Jake’s fellow cops who like playing him. The Captain’s husband is seeing some interesting potential in him, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversary Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aunt_zelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/gifts).



> This can be read easily enough as a standalone fic from ‘The Art of Sandwich Making’ even though it comes from the same ficverse.
> 
> Dedicated to the lovely aunt_zelda who lured me in with the siren song of Holt/Jake/Kevin goodness and then finished off by saying “Kevin is a professor and Holt is his captain, that's TWO authority figures dominating him”. Well, DAMN. Clearly I didn’t stand a chance and so this fic happened. This is for you, A.Z. – Enjoy!

 

 

“Come over for dinner tonight at eight. It’s a surprise for Raymond. Don’t tell him – or anyone else at your precinct – that you’re joining me.”

That was the invitation that started it all.

Kevin Cozner, Captain Holt’s husband, had called Jake late one afternoon at the precinct to give him that surprising summons. He had also let Jake know Holt would be arriving eventually but only after dinner as the man had a late meeting, but that would give them a chance to get to know one another first.

“ _Oo-kay_ … that’s kind of unexpected, but it makes me feel special and has the added bonus that Santiago would be _so_ jealous if she ever found out, so, yeah, I’m totally there,” Jake had responded, as usual speaking out thoughts that otherwise could have remained in his head. “Should I bring a bottle of wine?” He had learned that social expectation from Terry.

“ _Please_ , absolutely not, never again,” was all Kevin said before he hung up.

***

A few hours later and Jake found himself standing outside the door to his captain and Kevin’s home in the already dark night, having done his best to dress suitably for the occasion. He was even wearing a tie.

He understood that wearing a tie was probably the thing someone in this exclusive area of the city would do when they went out to dinner, but he ultimately knew he was really wearing it because Holt would want him to. He was sure that thought alone would keep him distracted with engrossingly _specific_ thoughts much later in the evening, so there really wasn’t a bad side to wearing it, in his opinion.

He rang the doorbell. Kevin answered it a few moments later.

“Welcome, Jake, thank you for coming.”

“No problem, thanks for inviting me, happy to be here, still don’t know why you invited me but I’m _happy_ to be here,” babbled Jake in reply, and he inwardly cringed. Ducking his head, he invited himself through the door. He was not off to a good start.

There was something about the captain’s husband that he found every bit as disconcerting as Holt. It was difficult to keep the upper hand with either man, even when they didn’t seem to be doing anything to deserve that reaction.

Kevin followed him in and directed him towards the dining room. There was an impressively laid out table in the centre of the room, with, in Jake’s opinion, far more cutlery that any sane person would every need for one meal. How complex was upper crust eating anyway that they needed so many knives and forks next to their plates? That wasn’t the half of it though – there were silver platters, covered dishes, and flower arrangements. _Flower arrangements_. He’d heard of them, of course, but never seen them in person, and now here he was eating with someone who considered them part of a meal. The only time flowers had been associated with his food was the time he’d dropped a takeaway taco by accident while taking a shortcut through a city park and he’d had to pick petals and dirt out of it before it was edible again.

He took a proffered seat opposite Kevin and the man opened a large silverware dish to reveal an awfully fancy looking soup inside, in Jake’s opinion. He served Jake a portion, and then served his own.

Jake was starting to realise he had no idea what Kevin wanted to discuss over dinner. Luckily for him, the potential for awkward silences had never stopped his brain from running off on its own path.

“I know you don’t like grisly cop stories, but how about cop stories that involve cute animals?” he tried as an opening gambit, grabbing hold of his spoon and managing to splash some soup onto the tablecloth as he took his first mouthful.

Kevin watched in polite horror. “No shop talk, Jake,” he said as he watched the spoon return to the bowl with an almost morbid fascination. “I believe I told you that when you were last a guest in my home.”

“Good memory,” Jake nodded confidently. “I was just testing you, of course, and well done for remembering you said that.”

Kevin’s delicately raised eyebrow told him he should give up his futile ploy. Jake tried a different tactic.

“So, Professor of Classics huh? That fun? Do you get to do sword fighting and read Shakespeare?”

Kevin looked at him as he would a child if it had accidentally stumbled into one of his lectures.

“No… no sword fighting and definitely no Shakespeare; did you even _go_ to school, Jake?” he began with one eye narrowed as though trying to decide if his dining companion was playing with him or actually had meant what he said. Jake was an interesting conundrum, he was fast confirming. “I find studying Classics an interesting opportunity to reflect on human nature. Understanding people and their motivations is paramount to achieving success in life, whatever the century, don’t you agree?”

Jake got the impression there was a hidden message beneath the man’s words but cursed himself for not being clever enough to decode it, so he settled on giving an intelligent looking nod instead. Actually admitting to being anything less than an uncontended genius was not something he ever liked doing. He felt a certain similarity in personality to Gina, in that regard, though she would never have a nagging doubt in her own abilities like he was experiencing right now.

“Jake, put down the spoon.”

The instruction brought his attention back to Kevin who had paused in his own eating to eye his guest carefully.

“Sorry?” Jake said, not quite sure what was happening. He was certain he had been doing a pretty convincing job at faking being civilised to that point. Kevin, though, had a surprisingly commanding tone when he wanted to, Jake realised. He could see why he was a good match for Holt, and so he slowly lowered his spoon back to his bowl.

“It’s clear,” Kevin began, “that you need instruction in table manners, and so I will teach you some basics.”

It seemed an odd statement to make to a guest, Jake thought as he raised both eyebrows in surprise, but who knew how upper class people acted at dinner. Perhaps they all spent their evenings correcting each other’s behaviour.

“Okay, I’m all for that,” Jake said eventually, trying to ignore a nagging voice in the back of his mind that was telling him it was particularly enjoyable being taught manners like a young boy. _Daddy issues_ , it said to him. He gave it a mental kick.

Kevin cleared his throat to bring Jake’s attention back.

“Hold your spoon like _so_ ,” he said demonstrating, “and less like you’re about to stab someone with it. Good. Now gently – _gently_ – scoop away from you as you spoon a small amount. _Don’t splash on the tablecloth._ That’s right. Now raise your hand and sip the soup without the slurping noise this time. Some cultures might do it as a sign of appreciation for a good meal, but ours does not, so silence please. Good boy, now lower your spoon and you’re done.”

Jake followed Kevin’s instructions perfectly, deciding not to call the man on having referred to him as ‘good boy’ if only because he felt a hypocrite for complaining at something he knew he would basically _pay_ to hear any figure of authority say to him at any other time. Instead he settled on simultaneously feeling proud of himself for earning Kevin’s praise but also slightly pathetic at feeling proud for doing such a technically simple task. Some of his kinks were frustratingly confusing at times, he realised with a sad shake of his head.

“Kevin,” Jake said carefully as he was trying his best to behave himself at the table, though he was still trying not to dwell too long on why he actually _cared._ “Why did you want me to come to dinner with you? It’s just that… I doubt I’m your usual type of dinner guest.”

Kevin paused in his eating a moment to give Jake a long and ambiguously knowing stare.

“I wanted to get to know you better as you’re clearly special to my husband,” he replied, simply. “I saw from the first time you came here for his birthday there was a different… _interaction_ between the both of you and I admit I was intrigued.”

Jake felt a swell of ego at the thought that he was special to Holt though at that moment he was more interested in Kevin’s way of describing his and Holt’s relationship. Did Kevin know about what Holt and the sarge were doing to him at work? Even if the man didn’t know, Jake doubted Holt would ever do anything that Kevin would have disproved of. Jake had a sudden urge to confront the professor but quickly rejected the idea as he couldn’t work out how to even bring the topic up. _So, Kevin, do you know your husband bends me over his desk and smacks me when I misbehave?_ Yeah, there was no _way_ he was going to say that.

Jake’s traitorous mind suggested having Kevin treat him like that would be just fine, too, if he could work out how to make that happen. After a bit more consideration, Jake acknowledged to himself that he might be pushing the boundaries of decency to expect his captain’s husband to spank him over the dinner table for not knowing how to eat soup properly.

Instead he settled on indulging his ego and, well, his authority kinks, and settled in to spend the entrée course being on his best behaviour and doing his upmost to follow all Kevin’s carefully instructed table manners.

***

Twenty minutes later Jake was riding on a warm wave of smug pride at his transformation. Kevin had him eating like a pro, and had even told him what topics were approved for discussion over a meal, and how to politely discuss them even if he didn’t know much about them as seemed to always be the case.

Kevin had risen from his chair and left to fetch their main course which he brought back and announced as ‘crumbed swordfish with celeriac remoulade in a nest of lightly peppered lobster claws’.

Jake then spent the next hour learning what ‘celeriac’ and ‘remoulade’ were, and added swordfish to the list of fish he had tried in his life. Though, he though, to be honest he had no idea what type of fish his usual greasy take away joint gave him – it was just called ‘fish’. He tried to tackle the lobster though his first attempts were disastrous and at least one piece unexpectedly ended up far away from the dining table which luckily missed Kevin’s attention.

There was something niggling at Jake’s mind as he let himself be guided through dinner etiquette. He eventually decided it was the whole concept of the evening that made him suspicious. His captain’s husband just _happened_ to invite him over to dinner one night and was spending the entire evening teaching him manners. Something didn’t add up.

“Why am I _really_ here?” Jake said suddenly, putting down his knife and fork and levelling an accusatory stare at Kevin. “I know we’re basically best buddies after the birthday dinner at the restaurant that I threw you and Holt…” he started inaccurately, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m loving our secret dinner but don’t forget – I’m a detective and you’re up to something more than just expertly cracking open lobster claws, like seriously how are you even _doing_ that, I’m just getting bone and I flipped one across the room before by accident when you weren’t looki-”

“ _Jake_ ,” Kevin interrupted firmly, before Jake could ramble off-topic any longer. “Would you like to know the answer or would you like to discuss whether you own me a bill for cleaning lobster out of my very expensive rug?” He raised a pointed eyebrow and waited.

“I’d like the answer,” Jake nodded quickly. “Definitely not the bill.”

Kevin sat his own cutlery down neatly upon his place and paused to dab the side of his mouth with his napkin to remove invisible crumbs. Jake wasn’t good with silences of any length but he held on, having learned his lesson with Holt that trying to fill in quiet time usually ended him up in more trouble than if he had wisely just not spoken.

As the silence crept on, and Jake got the impression he was being tested in his ability to show restraint, Kevin finally met his eyes and spoke.

“I have been giving much contemplation to a suitable anniversary gift for my husband,” he began, his voice steady and calm. “It’s our wedding anniversary today, did you know? We are fortunate enough to be financially secure and there is not much we cannot buy if we choose. So, for this anniversary, I would like to give him something money can’t buy. Something I know he wants.”

Jake’s face broke into a beam. “I didn’t know it was your anniversary! You want my advice on a present for the captain?” he exclaimed. “Santiago would be _so_ jealous right now. Can you say that again while I film it on my phone and I’ll send it through to her – it won’t take a second…”

Kevin didn’t move but instead gave Jake a pointed look until he quietened down again.

“As I was _saying_ …” Kevin began again, with a little reprimand in his voice that did interesting things to Jake thought he was trying not to show it, “I wish to give him something…unique, and I have already chosen what that is.”

The man was taking, in Jake’s opinion, a frustratingly long time to confess his real intentions and patience was on a very long list of Jake’s worst traits. “What is it?” Jake asked eagerly, trying not to bounce in his seat.

Kevin’s expression intensified and the corner of his mouth twitched in satisfaction at finally reaching his point.

“ _You_.”

Jake opened his mouth, said nothing, and then closed it again. He repeated the process another time in case it lead to it different outcome. It didn’t. He tried running through a range of facial expressions involving eyebrows, mouthed beginnings of words, and anything else that his brain wished to offer. He tried pushing his chair back from the table and leaning back to give himself more room for thought. Eventually, he managed to vocalise one word.

“ _Wh_ - _at_ …?”

Kevin was still appraising Jake calmly as though they were having the most normal of conversations. “I’ve decided to give you to Raymond as his anniversary gift.”

Jake continued gaping. He was missing something, surely. Captain Holt had an… _arrangement_ … with him at work, sure, but did Kevin know, then? And if he did, did he want to bring it into their _home?_ And, ultimately, _whatthefuck?_

“I presume you hold no issue with this,” Kevin said in his clipped tone, dragging Jake out of his wild thoughts.

“Excuse me? No issue?” Jake was on the back foot and stumbling his way through the conversation not quite sure how much he should be admitting to. “Why- What- Why do you- Why would you think that? _What?”_

“Please phrase your thoughts properly when you speak them,” Kevin chastised. “Did no one teach you how to converse in polite company?”

“No they didn’t, I’ll have you know!” Jake replied, though it occurred to him that wasn’t really something he should be proudly claiming, but his brain was taking up all his attention with an interesting lecture on Reasons Why Kevin Meant Gift In A Sexual Way 101. It was truly captivating and it was all Jake could do to try and force a vaguely affronted and completely fake expression on his face to try to appear confused.

“Why do you think I would have no issues with being my captain’s _gift?_ ” Jake asked again, feeling mildly proud of having constructing a sentence properly. Damn Kevin. The professor made him feel like he was in school again trying to garner praise from his teacher.

“Your erection.”

Silence followed Kevin’s reply.

Jake looked down into his own lap after he had finished gawping at the statement. “ _Oh_.”

He looked up again, flushing beetroot.

Kevin just acted as though it was nothing unexpected, and picked up his knife and fork to resume eating his meal.

“Uhhh…” Jake said intelligently, after another moment when he realised Kevin had apparently finished saying all he was going to say. “You, um, don’t mind me, um, having…?” He motioned to his lap with a vague wave of his hand.

Kevin glanced up from his meal. “Not at all,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I expected it based on what Ray has told me about your…predispositions.”

 _Oh fuck, he does know_ , Jake thought. Out loud, he said: “So Holt told you about…uh, what’s been going on at work, then, did he?”

Kevin nodded. “Yes, it’s perfectly fine, Jake,” he said. “You clearly need attention and a firm hand, and Holt can give you that, to a certain extent, in your workplace.” He paused to give Jake a significant look. “In my personal opinion, you need more than what can be done at your precinct, so I have decided that by gifting you to my husband in the privacy of our home, he will be able to let out his feelings regarding you more freely.”

Jake gulped. “Right.” He wasn’t sure he meant ‘right’ but it was the only word he could find in his entire vocabulary at that moment, so he went with it.

“And in case you were wondering,” Kevin continued, after he paused to raise his wine glass and take a small sip, “I am fully supportive of anything Ray wishes to do, which is why I thought it would be helpful to prepare you for him.”

Jake had just reached forward and grabbed his glass of wine in the reckless hope that alcohol might be an excellent idea right then, and was mid-way through taking a sip. He instead choked on it at hearing Kevin’s latest admission. He spluttered and coughed for a few seconds while the professor made no move to intercede, but instead waited for Jake to calm himself.

“Prepare me?” he gasped out, eventually.

Kevin gave a short nod of agreement. “Your manners are still abysmal, you have no concept of how to act at a dinner table, and you need training in how to make it through an evening without embarrassing yourself or others.”

Jake began to object but realised those were all fair points. He was hopeless in polite society. It was something he’d been quite proud of until that point.

“So… you’re going to go all ‘My Fair Lady’ on my ass and teach me to behave like a proper lady then?” Jake quipped, not being able to help himself.

“To a degree,” replied Kevin, ambiguously.

Jake was starting to feel bolder again. “And you think I’m going to go along with this purely because my body is clearly betraying me right now,” he said, confidently trying to battle through the fact he was holding a conversation at the dinner table with his captain’s husband while sporting a persistent and obvious erection.

“Yes, I think you would like this,” Kevin replied, and much to Jake’s continuing embarrassment, motioned to Jake’s lap. “But more to the point – excuse the pun – but I believe you wish for my approval. I am your captain’s husband after all. Pleasing me will please him. By inference, if it pleases me to train you to act in the way Ray would enjoy, then you will be pleasing both of us.”

He did want to please Holt. Jake couldn’t deny that considering his work life was now far more interesting these days. Kevin’s extraordinary impassivity was a variation on Holt’s trademark lack of any facial expression, and it was doing things to Jake. _So_ many things. There was something about more authoritative, older men who were completely unflappable that he had developed an inability to resist. He felt he should be ashamed by that but the only emotions he could muster were raw lust mixed with his usual tendency to not ultimately care what anyone who wasn’t his object of lust thought.

“So,” said Kevin, leaning back in his chair a little and levelling an appraising stare at Jake. “Let’s start by you calling me ‘Professor’.”

“Prof?” tried Jake, his inner rebel kicking up for the sheer fun of it.

“ _Professor._ ” Kevin corrected.

“Basically the same thing.”

“Pro. Fess. Or.” Kevin spelt the syllables out, emphasising each one with a tap of his finger on the table.

Jake was only pushing so he could extract Kevin’s version of Holt’s scary expressionless face, and it worked. It gave him a slight thrill throughout his already aroused body.

“Sorry, yes, _Professor_ ,” he acknowledged after a pause.

“You like testing people, don’t you Jake,” Kevin said calmly, not meaning it as a question as he eyed the detective with an evaluating stare. “You want them to _prove_ they’re good enough to best you.”

“Well, if there’s no challenge, where’s the fun?” he said, with surprising honestly, catching himself off-guard as giving straight answers was not his usual conversational style. He’d have to keep a better eye on himself. Clearly Kevin had a strange mesmerising power to get him to admit things he hadn’t meant to say out loud. It was a different version of the authority Holt pervaded, but an equally disturbing and, yes, arousing one. He clearly had a type.

Luckily – and unluckily – for Jake, the sound of keys rattling in the front door diverted their attention. Holt was home.

“Ahh…that must be Raymond now,” Kevin said, pleased. “He has impeccable timing.”

Jake tried to shuffle his chair forward so that his erection was hidden under the table, but a tutted sound of disapproval from Kevin told him clearly to stop. The fact that the professor wanted Holt to see how aroused Jake already was just made it all the more unlikely that Jake would be able to convince his damned appendage to settle down in the few seconds it would take his captain to enter the dining room.

Holt rounded the corner on queue, and stopped in his tracked with a confused expression. At least, Jake thought it was confused. It was always difficult to tell with him.

“What’s going on here?”

“Raymond,” announced Kevin, with a warm smile. “Happy anniversary.”

He rose from his chair and motioned for Holt to join them. The captain was still a little unsure of the circumstances before him but it was then that he noticed Jake was avoiding his gaze. It didn’t take him more than a few steps in his thought process to realise that Jake never appeared avoidant unless he was embarrassed or trying to hide something. The corner of his mouth twitched in pleasure. _Now_ he saw what Jake was trying to hide.

“Kevin…?” he asked, his voice smoother as he kept his eyes where they were, much to Jake’s mortification. “My detective appears to be enjoying his dinner more than our guests usually do. Is there a reason?”

“I brought him here as my anniversary gift to you,” Kevin replied as though he was stating the most normal of things. “You seemed interested in him when I saw you interacting at your birthday party. I know you are already indulging in him at your precinct but there is only so much you can do at your professional place of work, so I thought you would have more freedom to do as you please in the privacy of our home. Was I right?”

Holt took a moment before he nodded slowly. He walked over and took a seat with his husband at the table then cast an unreadable stare at his detective. Jake felt the urge to squirm but decided proper table manners probably excluded squirming.

“I have been preparing him for you, just as you like,” Kevin said, evenly. “He’s quite a fast learner when he tries. So far this evening, he has displayed manners, he’s learned to eat appropriate food, he knows his place, and he even came wearing a tie to dinner.”

Holt save a slight raise of an eyebrow, partly in disbelief. “I am impressed, then,” he said, turning to look at Kevin which gave Jake a chance to exhale for possibly the first time since his captain had entered the room. “I wasn’t sure he was capable of most of those things, and I’m well aware that orange soda on cereal puffs is his usual version of ‘food’ so I’m pleased to see he can eat real food when prompted.” He visibly shuddered at the thought of the meals Jake consumed at the precinct.

Holt took another moment to collect his thoughts and reached over to place a hand on his husband’s own. “Thank you. A most thoughtful gift, and well chosen. I never would have guessed.”

Jake was watching the interaction, feeling partly sappy at the romance happening before him, and partly scandalised at the _reason_ for them acting that way towards each other. He was feeling a little like this was a crazy dream. The _good_ type of crazy.

Holt broke his gaze with Kevin and glanced over to Jake with a concerned squint of one eye. “I don’t want him too distracted, though – he has work to do at the precinct and I’m not sure he’s mature enough to compartmentalise our private life from his work life and still be productive.”

Jake took automatic offence to the suggestion he was anything but an unquestionable genius at everything he put his mind to.

“I can totally do it, sir,” he pleaded. “I had freaky corpse sex with the coroner more than one and no one knew as I still did my own work. Okay, well, no one knew until _everyone_ knew, and it was Boyle’s work I messed up not my own, but I promise I wouldn’t do that again.”

He paused to take a breath, realising he was clearly going to have to explain the ‘corpse sex’ a little better once he was back at work. He tried again, completely forgetting that he probably should have been protesting his treatment a little harder, but his mind had already moved on. “What I mean to say, sir, is that I can be Robocop at work and Puppydog Cop at your home.”

Holt raised an eyebrow. “I would prefer you were a more disciplined Sherlock Holmes at work rather than a violent robot cop, though I’m fine with you being a dog at my home.” He countered, his voice smooth as though daring Jake to push back.

Jake gulped slowly and readjusted his position in his chair. _O-kaay_ … He’d walked right into that one.

As Kevin motioned for him to finish his dinner, Jake felt self-conscious like he was being examined by two professors rather than one as they watched across the dining room table. He decided his best move would be to impress them with his newly learned skills. He silently cursed himself for so desperately wanting Holt’s attention, but, to be fair, enjoying this was really only the tip of an iceberg full of kinks that he was merrily ramming his metaphoric ship into.

 _It’s a tough life being a cop_ , he justified to himself. _Gotta let the crazy out somewhere_. He deliberately ignored that the way _he_ acted like a cop on an average day wasn’t really a tough job at all.

He finished his meal with impeccable style, feeling conflicted throughout as to whether he should have been intentionally playing up just to push their buttons and elicit reactions. He thought, considering he was currently in uncharted territory, he should be a little more cautious than usual which was _completely_ against his nature.

Jake moved to put down his knife and fork to finish his meal and Kevin instructed him on how to place the cutlery properly on his place. Jake had to stop himself from saying ‘Thank you, Professor’ as he felt displaying a little pride wouldn’t kill him.

“Come,” announced Holt, as his eyes followed Jake’s movements. “Let’s retire to the study.”

Jake suspected the ‘come’ command was directed at him, and so he rose from his chair, still trying his best to pretend he wasn’t – apparently permanently – sporting an erection that refuse to either settle down or finish up. He took a small, awkwardly wide-stanced step forward, feeling that even though he’d never ridden a horse, this was probably what people looked like after they had just dismounted from one.

Jake hadn’t even noticed Holt come around the table to join him. He opened his mouth to speak but left it hanging there when he realised his captain’s intention. Holt had given him his focused ‘I’m about to play you _so_ well and you’re not going to argue’ stare – which Jake liked to think of as Stare #6 – and reached forward to grab hold of Jake’s tie and wrap it around his fist like a leash.

 _Fucking hell_ , Jake muttered before he could stop himself.

Holt took a neat step to Jake’s side and slapped him hard on the ass. “No language like that in my home, Peralta.”

Jake blushed hard at the unexpected flush of pain and the embarrassment of having sworn out loud. “Sorry, Captain. I… sorry. No language. Right. Can do.”

His cock was continuing to humiliate him. Just the thought that Kevin – otherwise known as both the distinguished Columbia University Professor Cozner and his captain’s _husband_ – had just watched him being reprimanded in that manner was… well, Jake admitted, it was fifty shades of _hot as fuck_.

This was not going to make his walk into their study any easier, he realised, feeling an acutely noticeable – as in, cartoon-style-pounding-out-of-his-body style _noticeable_ – throbbing in his groin as Holt began leading him forward step by step.

Kevin gave a small, pleased smile and lingered a moment longer to pour himself and Holt after-dinner brandies.

***

Jake found the few moments alone with Holt once they reached the study far more loaded than he expected them to be. After all, he had been alone with his captain many times at the station, but this was different. This was the captain’s home turf. He felt distinctly more like prey being toyed with after being brought home from the hunt.

Standing there with Holt, being held by his tie even though his arms were free and he really should at least _try_ to protest the move, made him feel some unnamed thing that he _craved._ He found himself captivated by his tie, staring at how the end wrapped neatly around his captain’s large hand, and how he could follow its path only part way up before he lost sight of where it joined his own neck. _Fascinating things, ties_ , Jake thought in a daze. _I’ve been underrating them._

Kevin entered just then and Jake broke his stare to follow the man’s movements. After putting down the two brandies on a small table next to the side couch, Kevin walked over to join them.

He took a stand behind Jake, and Holt remained where he was close in front of his detective. Jake was suddenly having thoughts about sandwiches that had nothing to do with food.

Jake felt the professor grasp hold of his upper arms. Kevin pulled them backwards before sliding his hands down to wrap them around Jake’s wrists so he was holding them tightly behind his back.

“Would you like use of my handcuffs?” Holt offered politely, taking note of the move his husband had made, and acting for all the world like Jake’s opinion on the matter wasn’t at all relevant.

Jake was having trouble looking away from his captain’s face. The man’s pupils were so dilated his eyes were nearly black, but he didn’t give any other indication of his focused interest in the situation unfolding for him. It was baffling and amazing the hell out of Jake who, in comparison, was struggling not to drown under his own impressive collection of highly sexual reactions. He didn’t even try to pull away from Kevin’s grasp as there was no _way_ he wanted to risk this opportunity being taken off the table.

“Thank you, you do think of everything,” Kevin replied to Holt’s request, and Jake’s wide eyes tracked the path of the glinting pair of cuffs as they made their way from his captain’s belt hook into Kevin’s hands.

 _He must polish them every morning to keep them that shiny_ , Jake thought to himself, his mind supplying him with a request to hopefully watch his captain doing that one day.

Jake couldn’t dwell on that much longer as he felt cold steel clamp tightly around his wrists and securing his hands behind his back. It nearly made him come. He actually felt himself _sway_ with the wave of intense heat that flooded through him at the more-than-indecent sound of the lock clicking sharply into place. He bit the inside of his cheek. If he came now he would have to wait longer than he wanted to admit to get back on track – he wasn’t a teenager anymore after all, he grudgingly acknowledged – and there was no possible way, no way in _hell_ , he was having any part of this end right now.

Jake’s eyes were glazed over, lost in his own thoughts, but he felt Kevin lean forward against him, warm breath next to his ear.

“Your Ray’s gift from me, after all,” Kevin murmured, as he gave a slight tug down on the cuffs to assure himself they were fastened. “I don’t want to you interfering unnecessarily what he might want to do to you this evening.”

Jake just nodded slowly. He decided trusting himself to speak in that moment was a foolish idea.

“That’s very thoughtful, Kevin,” Holt said with an appreciative barely-there smile to his husband. “He can be quite restless if you don’t restrain his movements.”

 _I feel like I’m in a manor house and the Lords are discussing sensible ways to handle their animal_ , Jake thought with an almost comically bemused expression at the men’s ability to still be so _civilised_ while doing such _uncivilised_ things to him.

He dragged his wayward thoughts back again, feeling his short mental diversion had at least taken the edge off an otherwise fast approaching orgasm.

He heard Holt say, “Shall we sit?” and felt both men grasp hold of his arms and lead him over to the brown leather couch that sat in front of their library shelves full of antiquated tomes. Not that Jake realised that was what they were. He’d only been looking for copies of _The New Yorker_ last time he’d been by them at Holt’s birthday party. Understanding actual books was a little out of his league.

He was gently guided down to take a seat in the centre of the couch. Holt and Kevin sat with him, one on either side, and as though it had been rehearsed, both turned towards him and trapped him in by crossing their legs in the direction of each other.

Holt was on Jake’s right, and he raised his arm and placed it around Jake’s shoulders, letting his hand hang casual down his detective’s chest. Kevin was on the left, and moved to drop his own hand to Jake’s thigh, high enough up that it caused Jake to jolt a little in surprise at the man’s boldness.

 _Ohfuckohfuckohfuck_ , Jake thought eloquently to himself as he carefully stared into the relative safety of the polished floorboards rather than at either man. He could just imagine their expressions – his captain would be intensely focused and yet unreadable, and Kevin would be evaluating him. Like an _experiment_. It was an acutely pleasurable thought for Jake, and yet he still couldn’t work out if he was now _adding_ new kinks by the day since Holt had come into his life, or whether he’d always subconsciously wanted all the wonderfully dysfunctional things that were being inflicted on him.

Holt reached up and began prying expertly at Jake’s tie, loosening it until it was a slack noose around his detective’s open collar. He then reached down, still not speaking, and slowly and confidently pulled the zip down on Jake’s pants, fingers glancing over the material which was thin enough that Jake could _feel_ them trace across his cock. In his mental haze, Jake was mildly surprised his zip had held at all considering the persistent pressure against it since dinner.

With a moment more of adjustment, his cock came free and Jake _swore_ at the change in sensation, the burning tightness now replaced with a cooler but more desperate need for release.

 _Fuck ME_ , he swore again internally, disappearing into the sparks bursting through his mind for a breath.

So this was actually happening. It seemed an absurd time for Jake to have that thought, but now he was here, seated between his captain and the man’s husband, his cock out for all the world to see… well _fuck,_ he thought. _Fuck. Fuck. FUCK._

Kevin casually reached beside him and picked up one of the brandies he had brought in and offered it to his husband. The fact that this was taking place _over the top of his erection_ was not lost on Jake and he felt like yelling out at them that they should really be talking about this. Like, say _anything._

He forced his thoughts to regroup. He needed to act smarter and realise they were playing with him. Well three can play this game, he thought, rather pointlessly considering his current position. He really had no cards to play at all which was, he admitted, basically the _entire_ attraction of the evening. He silently cursed his masochistic tendencies, which was a little unfair given the pleasure they were currently giving him.

“Did you have an enjoyable day?” Holt calmly asked of his husband as he began almost absentmindedly undoing the buttons on Jake’s shirt, infuriatingly slowly.

 _Are they seriously talking about their days, like I’m not sitting here cuffed between them exposed like this?!_ Jake thought, gaping slightly as he turned his head between them both, watching them calculatingly avoid speaking to him as though he was just something to play with and nothing more.

“Yes, I did, thank you,” Kevin replied, reaching his hand over to begin tracing a trail around the head of Jake’s cock the same way he might idly finger the rim of a wineglass.

Jake gasped then bit his lip _hard_. Behind him, his hands reflexively pulled against the cuffs and when that did nothing more than turn him on even more, he settled for trying to jut his hips upward to force more contact with Kevin’s fingers. Those _teasing_ fingers.

Without saying a word, Holt’s arm that had been resting around Jake’s shoulders moved to instead grasp a hand around the back of his neck. Jake understood the warning. Behave himself.

He hated behaving himself. He was bad at it. Anyway, misbehaving was _far_ more fun.

“I must admit, Kevin,” said Holt, continuing to unbutton Jake’s shirt after the temporary pause, “I’m interested in knowing more about your thoughts on my detective.”

They were still talking over Jake, almost like he wasn’t there, but Jake understood their conversation was partly for show. Their hands on him made it clear they hadn’t forgotten him at _all. I’m an experiment_ , Jake thought to himself, reiterating the thought he’d had earlier in the night. _Definitely an experiment. Wind me up and watch me go_.

“Well,” Kevin began, reaching over with his free hand to pick up his glass of brandy and taking a small sip. “It interests me how much he needed to impress you at your birthday party. The more you put him back in his place, the more he wanted your attention. It’s a fascinating dynamic, don’t you think?”

He had finished another sip and placed his glass back down before giving an evaluating gaze at Jake’s face. Jake was staring back, his mouth slightly open and feeling mildly bemused at when he had become so easy to read. He would really need to step up his game.

Kevin reached over and suddenly ran his thumb over Jake’s lower lip, and Jake had to stop himself from instinctively wanting to suck it. He felt there were depths he was yet to fall to, so he might as well take his time diving down into them. Anyway, it would give them all something to work towards.

“You don’t have a very good poker face, are you aware?” Kevin said idly, as he took his hand away from Jake’s mouth, and instead trailed it down his throat and bare chest, down his stomach to wrap itself slowly around his cock. “You crave Ray’s approval and it was clear from the moment I met you how much you hang on his every reaction.” He glanced over to his husband who was listening in with interest. “It’s not like your Detective Santiago acts when she tries to impress you,” he commented to Holt. “It’s something different with this one. I could recognise it immediately and knew he would be a perfect – and willing – gift for you.”  

The thought was getting too much for Jake, who felt he had already passed his impressive limits of self-control and would not be able to hold back any longer if they kept saying the things like _that_ and _touching_ him in the ways they were doing. He was sure he would have bruises on his wrists from where his arms were reflexively convulsing against his cuffs at each touch.

Holt’s hand had returned to stroking Jake’s exposed throat where his tie had been loosened, and it was causing Jake to feel like a mesmerised snake, swaying slightly back and forth against the rhythmic touch of his charmer. He felt indecent in the best possible ways, under their ministrations. The contrast of their civilised conversation and impeccable formalwear was stark in comparison to his dishevelled appearance, unbuttoned shirt and undone pants from which his cock jutting out hard for them all to see.

“You’re right, Kevin,” said Holt carefully in response to his husband’s words. “He is the right gift to enjoy in our home. We haven’t really had a relaxing break in a while to do activities like this. Perhaps even-“

“ _Please, I’m going to co-“_

Jake was so lost in sensations that he whimpered the words before he could stop them escaping his mouth. He realised his mistake immediately.

The hand on his cock stopped stroking him, and Holt’s fingers on his throat changed subtly from gentle strokes to a harder grip, pushing just enough into his skin to act as a warning to behave himself.

“Don’t interrupt.”

It was Kevin who spoke, and Jake shut up quickly and silently nodded his compliance. He did let an almost imperceptible moan out but he hoped that didn’t count as it was undeniably involuntary on his part. He took a long, ragged breath and tried to focus on anything that wasn’t how close he was to coming across his captain’s expensive rug.

“As I was _saying_ ,” Holt continued, sternly, his eyes slightly lidded and pupils darker than usual as he continued playing with his detective’s bare skin, “I thought we could go away for the weekend up the coast. It will be lovely this time of year and the spring flowerings are always an impressive sight. You know what I say about flowerings at this time of year.”

“I do,” Kevin nodded in agreement. “I remember it being hysterical.”

Even through the haze of lust pulsing through him, Jake took a moment to again be baffled at what could possibly be considered humorous about anything Holt had ever uttered in his entire life.

“Would you like to bring your detective with us for a pleasant diversion?” Kevin continued, as though he might as well have been asking something as mundane as what they should pack in their suitcases.

Jake let out a strange strangled gulp and tried his best to keep quiet. He was only human though, and a human with barely any self-control left, especially when it came to talking. The verbal floodgates opened. “ _Please_ , let me come, I’ll be quiet… Not like _now_ , obviously, I’m not demonstrating that well right _now_ , but I could practice and I’ll be an _awesome_ travel companion and anything else you want, I’m going to shut up now, I see what I’ve done wrong here, shutting up now, sorry sirs…”

His voice trailed off and he blushed hard. It was a humiliatingly long and desperate outburst but he hadn’t been able to hold it in. The optimist in him hoped that while he would get in trouble for speaking when he hadn’t been given permission to, perhaps he had still implanted the idea of travel buddies in their heads and perhaps, just perhaps, they might give him the best holiday he could imagine.

Holt raised a sharp eyebrow at him, and Kevin disconcertingly gave a small smile. Neither had stilled the movements of their hands on his body, and Jake felt this was probably a good sign, though he wasn’t sure why he deserved it.

“We will consider it,” Holt said eventually, breaking the silence. “If you learn how to stop that mouth of yours when we ask you to.”

Jake nodded, and only the cuffs holding his hands behind his back stopped him from miming a zip closing his lips together. He was trying to hold back a beam, as feeling this inexorably cheerful while being also painfully sodden with arousal was an odd sensation but not an unpleasant one.

He looked over, glazed-eyed, at Holt who had removed his hand from Jake’s skin and was now finishing off his last sip of brandy. The captain then placed his glass down and passed his glance over by his husband before settling it on Jake’s dazed face. Locking Jake’s eyes on his own, Holt slowly moved his hand down onto Jake’s thigh and was pushing it between his legs, deliberately slightly south of where Jake was desperately hoping he’d start moving it up sometime _very_ soon.

“Shall we take this upstairs?” Kevin asked. “There’s no need to rush, after all. We have the whole night ahead of us.”

Holt gave his husband the soft smile he reserved only for him, and his eyes flickered sidewards and down the exposed skin of his detective’s aroused body. “A perfect idea. You do give me the most wonderful gifts. You are very thoughtful.”

As he was pulled to his feet and lead up to their bedroom, Jake couldn’t have agreed more.

 

THE END.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want proof of sub!Jake’s existence, as well as dom!Holt and dom!Kevin (and while we’re at it, dom!Terry, too) rewatch 1x16. Trust me. You can’t unsee it.  
> You're welcome.


End file.
